


7 Minutes in Hell

by hTeDruknenPotaT



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: College AU, Gen, M/M, Modern AU, One-Sided Attraction, Seven Minutes In Heaven Game, Skeletons In The Closet, Spin the Bottle, drunk feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 15:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17511299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hTeDruknenPotaT/pseuds/hTeDruknenPotaT
Summary: Based on this prompt I received on tumblr:Semi-modern-ish?I’m feeling Highschool/college party.They play spin the bottleErnesto and Héctor have to spend 7 minutes in the closet making outBut instead it’s filled with awkward 7 minutes of talking and Héctor playfully trying to play along but it’s all just so awkward





	7 Minutes in Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my friend Alicia for this prompt! It got my writing gears turning for the first time in months.
> 
> In a modern setting, Héctor is not yet married with kids yet at age 21 and Ernesto knows what gay is. They have the chance to talk out their feelings before Ernesto gets murdery.

It was the poor girl's first party and she'd already gotten herself hammered.  Impossibly, the synth bass dropped right as she tripped over her own feet and smacked her face into the wall on the way down.

"Ay!  Get fucked, Perla!"

Héctor laughed along with everyone else, but he pushed his way through the crowd to get to the girl.  He stumbled, pretty drunk himself, and nearly fell over her before he dropped to the ground to put a hand on her shoulder.  She groaned.  Good, she was still conscious.

"Excellent timing!" Héctor laughed.  The girl didn't laugh back.  She coughed and retched.

Héctor recoiled.  "B-Bucket!" was all he could screech, but the music was too loud, so he grabbed Perla by the wrist and heaved her off the ground.  He held her waist tight, shoving through other drunk party kids, making a beeline to the bathroom.  Where the _hell_ was the bathroom?  The girl leaning on his shoulder was about to ruin his good shirt, the one he found barely worn on the chair where he kept all his laundry...

The room spun.  Héctor suddenly felt a great weight lifted off his shoulder, and he sighed with relief.  Then he glanced around in alarm.  Where did the drunk girl go?  
"Need a hand, amigo?" asked a familiar voice.  Héctor spun around a couple times until his cloudy vision finally focused on his best friend, valiantly holding up the poor lightweight.  Héctor only had a chance to flash him a grateful smile before Ernesto threw her over his shoulder like a fireman and rushed right to the bathroom, which was... in the total opposite direction Héctor was taking her, but he saw Ernesto drop her in front of the toilet before she gave a powerful heave... and a painful splash that Héctor heard over the heavy bass and laughing college kids.

"Yeesh..."

Ernesto came out of the bathroom wincing.  "Someone should call her an uber," Héctor muttered.  As he spoke, he realized foggily that he had a phone... somewhere...  He dug around, tried to press the numbers, then realized the screen was off.  Ernesto swiped his phone from him.

"You're drunk, Héctor."

"Well, you're _not."_  Héctor jabbed a finger into his best friend's chest.  "Think you can just... show at a party and not party?"

"You assume I haven't had anything to drink," said Ernesto with an annoying smirk.  "I've had plenty.  I'm just not a scrawny lightweight like you and that _borracha—"_

Ernesto was cut off suddenly as he was seized by a group of kids much, much drunker than both of them.  They pulled him back to their circle where they handed him cups of punch, and shots, all in agreement that he wasn't drunk enough.  Héctor sighed and watched Ernesto surrounded by his fans, all wanting him to join their circles and games...  All of _Héctor's_ friends were out back smoking pot.  Probably having a lot more fun.

"Ey, Héctor, come join us!" shouted another familiar voice, a singular mutual friend.  Héctor happily dropped down into the circle, where he was surprised to be met with friendly shouts and pats on the back.  Weird, Ernesto's friends were supposed to be classier than his.  They seemed cool!  They slurred out some jokes that Héctor couldn't really understand, but they were laughing so hard that Héctor couldn't help laughing too.

"And so... I said...  Go choke on that chorizo!"

The girl across from him screamed and slapped her knee.  Héctor howled with laughter and pounded Ernesto's friend on the back.  The only one who wasn't smiling was Ernesto.  He watched them all with a stony face, and downed a quick shot of tequila.

Ernesto's friends had a surprisingly good sense of humor, at least when they were drunk.  Héctor was breathless from laughing.  Ernesto didn't say anything, just glared harder as he downed shot after shot while Héctor stole his friends' attention.  "Hey, save some for the rest of us," slurred the guy next to Héctor, reaching across to swipe the bottle.  He drank from it directly until it got stolen, then passed around until it reached Ernesto, who finished it, now very red in the face.  The bottle fell from his hand and skidded to the middle of the circle.

The guy next to Héctor reached for the bottle and spun it around.  It took a few seconds for Héctor's foggy brain to realize they were playing a game now—  As someone shouted something about a closet, Héctor's memory flashed back to the sensation of a boot flying at his nose and the sound of a loud hissing.  Héctor tried to pull himself back to the present, his head pounding with the beat of the music, laughing out loud at any joke he heard, not really sure what was a joke and what wasn't, but ey, everything was funny!  And why shouldn't he have some fun?  It wasn't like anyone would remember what happened in the morning!

He snapped out of his thoughts to the sound of wet kissing above him.  The guy next to him was loudly making out with the girl next to Ernesto who was leaning over with her butt right in his face.  "In the closet, lovebirds!" Héctor yelled, shoving the man in the ass.  The couple giggled and stumbled over to the closet, slamming the door behind them.  A couple kids put their ears to the door and chuckled stupidly.

Héctor kept the group entertained with more jokes about sausages until seven minutes later when the happy couple came out of the closet, both buckling their pants back up.  Héctor snorted until the guy tossed the bottle at him.  Héctor lunged and caught it by his fingertips on impulse.  Suddenly all eyes were on him.  Héctor smiled reluctantly.

"Your turn!"

"Spin!"

"Hehe..."

Well, looked like there was no getting Imelda back on his good side anymore.  Not like he ever had a chance.  He grinned at his new group of friends and flicked the bottle with his fingers.

The bottle twirled, Héctor's head spun, the room revolved as each strange face circled around him.  The music got louder, bass pounding, until finally, the bottle slowed with the music, stopping as it pointed straight at the one thing in the room that wasn't moving.  Héctor looked up from the bottle.  Ernesto finally blinked.  He gasped, his face darkening to a pretty scarlet.

"OOOOOOOO!" yelled the crowd of drunken college kids.

Héctor locked eyes with his best friend.  He stared stupidly for a second, the fog in his head making him forget where he was for a moment, or what game they were playing...  Oh, yes.

He waggled his eyebrows.

Ernesto reached out tentatively toward the bottle.  He jabbed it quickly like a piece of roadkill, making it turn toward the girl next to Héctor.

"Ah ah ah!" the girl laughed, pointing it back to Héctor.  "No cheating!"

"This game is rigged!"  Ernesto picked up the bottle and chucked it at Héctor.  It flew a foot over his shoulder.  "You rigged it!"

"What can I say?  I want to keep you all to myself."

He gave Ernesto a ridiculous smirk.  After a second Ernesto seemed to catch on, chuckling awkwardly.  "Ah...  Haha, I see how it is...  This _hijo de puta_ wants to keep any lucky _chicas_ from getting a piece of me..."

"Keep telling yourself that, you know it's me they want."

"OOOOOOH!"

Hands were shoving them both, someone dragged Héctor to his feet.  Ernesto fought off the hands that grabbed him and stood up himself, tripping over his own feet before puffing himself up.  "Can't wait for seven minutes in heaven with Ernesto de la Cruz, eh mi amigo?"

Héctor wanted to keep stalling, but a light push made him fall right onto his best friend.  Héctor instinctively grabbed him around the shoulders to keep from falling over.

"Oh, you're _really_ eager," said Ernesto, his voice cracking a little.

There was more deafening laughter as they were herded into the closet.  "Have fun, you two!" a voice shouted.

Héctor couldn't think of something smart to say before the door slammed shut.  He fell back against Ernesto as he was plunged into darkness and the music outside became muffled.  As soon as the world righted itself, he pulled away and took a step back.

"Okay," he whispered, "it's loud enough out there, we don't really have to—"  
He was cut off as Ernesto's hands seized his upper arms and pushed him back against the wall.  His mouth landed on his jaw.  Héctor yelped.  "H-Hey...!"

Ernesto's mouth crashed into his.  Héctor tasted the sickening burn of tequila on his lips.  "Ernest—"  Another kiss cut him off.  Héctor shut his eyes and struggled against his grip, tight enough to bruise.  His hand fit around his entire upper arm.  "What are you— mmf—"

Ernesto's face came off his, one of his hands released his arm to seize his jaw.  "What are _you_ doing," Ernesto slurred in a harsh whisper.  "You were into this a second ago—"

Héctor dodged his next kiss.  "You're drunk, amigo—"

"Like you have a problem laying those filthy lips anywhere—"

"Right!  You don't know where they've been!"  Héctor's voice was rising with the bubble of panic in his throat.  "Which is why you should stop!"

"Huh?"

Héctor's eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness.  He could see Ernesto's half-lidded gaze, totally unfocused.  He too was just beginning to see.  "This isn't right," Héctor said, his voice wavering.  "You're drunk, you don't know what you're doing... And I can't feel my left arm."  He smiled painfully.  Ernesto blinked, taking it in slowly.

The grip on his arm loosened, Héctor took the opportunity to grab Ernesto by the wrist and throw his hand off him.  "What's your _problem,_ Nesto?" Héctor whispered sharply.  "Do you need to go home?  You're acting crazy!"

"I thought..."  Ernesto's voice quavered as he took a step back.  "I... I'm sorry, I thought—  It's the game!"  His voice suddenly changed completely.  "Thought we were playing a game!  A stupid game!"

"We didn't actually have to—  Wait, wait wait."  Héctor's shook his head.  He could still taste the tequila on his lips.  He hastily wiped them on his arm.  "You're not..."

"Not _what."_

"Uhh... nevermind."

It was stupid.  Ernesto was just drunk off his ass, he needed to get home, drink a gallon of water and sleep this off.  Héctor experimentally pushed on the closet door.  It wouldn't budge.  Suddenly Ernesto was on him again, jabbing a finger in his chest.  "What, you think I'm into you, cabrón?  You think I _wanted_ to do that?"

"Uhh..."

"You think I was expecting—"  Ernesto hiccupped.  "—after all that... that _flirting—"_

"Whoa, _what?_  Ernesto, this is starting to sound like some weird unsolicited denial."

"You started it!"

"Hey.  I started _nothing."_  Héctor's eyes narrowed.   _"Ya párale con tus mamadas,_ are you..."  Héctor sucked a deep breath through his teeth, choking out, _"into me...?"_  
He didn't want to ask this question.  He didn't want to have this conversation, he never thought this would happen.  Maybe it was just a joke, and he could pass out that night peacefully.  Hopefully that question would sound as ridiculous to Ernesto as it sounded coming out of him.

"I don't know!" Ernesto shouted.  He turned away, throwing his arms up into the air, hitting Héctor in the nose.  "How could I know?!  Maybe mamá never loved me enough and that's why I hate seeing you with that—"  Ernesto was sober enough to bite his tongue before he spoke another word.

"You're talking about Imelda?"  The sound of an angry cat's hiss came back to him.  "You're jealous... of Imelda."  Héctor couldn't help it, he laughed.  He pressed his hand to his mouth to cover it when Ernesto weakly punched his ribs.  "Oh, that all makes so much sense..."  He'd thought the way Ernesto had screamed when he first met Imelda, naked in his bed.  ( _"You didn't tell me this wasn't your bed!"_  Imelda had screeched, grabbing all the blankets and kicking him onto the floor.   _"Well, I didn't want you to think my bed was the messy one with all the blood and snot on it,"_ Héctor had explained sheepishly.   _"I apologize.  What can I do to make this up to you?"_  He made it up to her that evening behind the carefully locked door of her dorm room.  It was a miracle she didn't break up with him that morning.  The way she punished him was an even bigger miracle.  Everything worked out in the end... for a bit.)

"Don't you dare—"

"Ha, I can't believe I didn't see it sooner...!"

"DON'T YOU LAUGH AT ME!"

Héctor winced, he looked to the door, wondering if the guys outside heard that.  All he could hear was more pounding music and unintelligible shouts.  "You piece of shit, I could kill you!" Ernesto whispered, dropping his voice, his sharp breaths still reeking of alcohol.  "I swear I could kill you!"

"That's..."  Héctor's fingers fumbled around the doorknob.  "...um, concerning?"

"You're just so, _so—"_  Ernesto stepped forward, Héctor's fingers closed around the knob, before Ernesto stumbled.  Héctor dodged just in time, and he fell into the door.  His eyes roved around the closet, his head spinning, before he sighed and put his hands on his friend's shoulders.

"Perhaps... we should sit down."

Usually it was Ernesto who dealt with Héctor's emotional breakdowns, handling it like a champ.  Always so cool and collected... most of the time.  Héctor tried to gently guide him to the floor, but Ernesto crumpled down and fell right on his butt.  He squealed like a little girl, and Héctor was tempted to laugh, but he restrained himself and sank down beside him.  He put a tentative hand on Ernesto's shoulder.

"Amigo, sounds like... there's some things we need to talk about."

Ernesto grunted.  "We don't have anything to talk about."

"Are you... angry at me?  Did I do something?"

"You're leaving me, Héctor."

"Huh?  I am?"  Ernesto only hiccupped.  "Uhh, since when?"

"Ever since... _she_ showed up!  You've been spending all day with her, and you _know_ she doesn't like me!"

Héctor sighed.  "I can spend my time with whoever I want.  That's your problem, not mine."

"It's not... just her!  I've always known this was going to happen!"

Héctor narrowed his eyes.  He wasn't sure he should keep interrupting, maybe it'd be better to just let him talk.  Ernesto rubbed his head painfully.  "You were always going to grow up and leave me someday, once you got bored of our routine...  I knew it was happening, and now it's happening, and I don't know how to stop it!"

Héctor... still wasn't sure what Ernesto was on about.  But he heard him hiccup, then that hiccup turned into a sob.  Héctor stared at him, puzzled.  "I don't know... what I'm supposed to do without you!"

"I thought," Héctor muttered, "you wanted me out."

"What?  When did I ever—"

"Every time I'm with your friends, you give me that dirty look."

"Because you turn them all into _you!_  Five minutes with you and they're all falling in love—"

"So you're jealous of _me_ now?  Make up for mind, Nesto."

"I could _kill_ you," Ernesto growled.  "You always knew it was you...   _You_ showed me how to play guitar, _you_ write all the songs, you don't even have to try and—"  Ernesto hiccupped again.  "—And you're just...  You're so... GYAH I COULD KILL YOU!"

"Eh, when've I been such a perfect guy."

"You know it and you RUB IT IN MY FACE!  Hitting on my friends, running off with your—"  He stopped himself again and took a deep breath, finishing in a high pitched voice— _"—girlfriend."_

"Ay, Imelda and I..."  Héctor paused, rubbing the back of his neck.  He didn't want to say it out loud.  It would make it final.  "We're not... together right now."

Ernesto hiccupped so loud that Héctor jumped.  "You broke up?"

"We're...  I don't know, she yelled at me and said... we want different things...  Look, Nesto, it's hard.  It's hard for me.  You seem to have the delusion that it's easy for me.  I always thought you..."  Héctor looked him in the eye, into his deep glare, then looked away, talking to his knees.  "You seemed... perfect to me.  You're popular, you know how to keep it together, when you're _sobrio_ anyway.  I look up to you.  I still do."  Still not looking him in the eye, Héctor rested a hand on Ernesto's tense shoulder.  "Mamá never loved me either, you know.  You're all I ever had and...  I felt bad about that, I didn't want to weigh you down, I had no idea that..."

"That... I _need_ you, Héctor."

Héctor closed his eyes.  He squeezed Ernesto's shoulder.  "I love you, mi amigo."  He shook his head slowly.   _"Hermano..._ You're like a brother to me, Nesto.  Nothing more.  I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't... have to be sorry," Ernesto whispered, almost harshly.  "And don't say those things to me—"

"But I care about you.  And I never meant to hurt you.  We're both fucked up... and we should talk about this when we're sober."

"I don't want you to remember this—"

"Maybe I won't.  We should still talk.  You don't... deserve to feel this way.  And I don't..."  Héctor paused, wondering how to say this, then accepted he wouldn't be able to find the words while tipsy.  "I don't care if you're gay, you know, even if it's for me."  He smiled encouragingly.  Ernesto didn't smile back.  _"Soy muy guapo, eh?_  Look, you can tell me anything, okay?  I won't hate you for it, or make fun of you for it _if_ I can help it."

"I don't know!" Ernesto threw his hands up.  "Perhaps _papá_ never gave me a positive role model—"

"Ah, _es una mierda,_  we've only got a minute or two left in here.  You're gonna come out of the closet and—"

_"Te mataré, hijo de PUTA!"_

"Cálmese..."  Héctor laughed to himself.  He was so mean.  "Listen, I won't tell anyone about our secret.  Well, your secret.  If you want to keep being Macho de la Cruz—"  Héctor ruffled Ernesto's carefully gelled hair.  He sighed, then pulled Ernesto's head onto his shoulder.  "God, I wish... I didn't keep hurting people."

"What happened with you and Imelda," Ernesto mumbled.

"We had a fight where she claimed I wasn't serious enough... but she doesn't know...  Perhaps, this is a bad time to bring it up."

_"Vivir el momento..."_  Ernesto's head was starting to relax on Héctor's shoulder.

"I want to be... everything she wants me to be.  I'm ready for her, I'm just... scared, you know?  That I can't be enough for her...  And she's... everything to me.  She makes me a better man."

"After I kiss you, I have to hear about your girl problems..."

"You didn't ask me!  I would _never_ do such a thing to you!"

"Clearly."  Ernesto snorted.  Héctor couldn't see, but he could sense a slight smile on his face.  "I'm sorry, alright?  That was..."

"Not cool."  Héctor's face heated up.  "I'll forgive you if you promise never to do that again."

Héctor couldn't see, but he knew Ernesto was rolling his eyes.  "What kind of person do you think I _am?"_

"A borracho who can't handle a whole bottle of tequila."

Héctor laughed softly.  He patted Ernesto's head.  "This reminds me of when we were kids, you know... when we hid, and I, well..."  The alcohol was clouding his memory.  "I want Imelda back."

"So... go get her," Ernesto murmured into his neck.

"Eh?"

"She makes you a better man, and whatever...  Go to her!  See if I care!  Leave me behind!"

_"Nunca,_ Nesto."  He held his best friend close while he sobbed drunkenly onto his shoulder.  "You'll always be important to me.  But...  I'll talk to her.  I'll make things right.  And you...  I don't want you to be in pain."

"If you weren't so damn nice—"

"I can't help it.  I try."  Héctor chuckled to himself.  "I never hear about what you're going through.  You always seem fine to me.  If you aren't, please...  Just let me know?"

"Pah.  I... I don't...."  Ernesto was either sobering up, or losing consciousness.  "I can't... tell you...."

"I'll care about you no matter what, _hermano._  That's a promise."

"I hate you so much."

"I love you too."

Héctor smiled at him.  Ernesto's eyes were filled with tears, but his gaze softened for a bit, and Héctor reached over and pulled him into a hug.  Ernesto's body fell limp into the embrace.  Héctor rubbed his back, Ernesto groaned.  "We'll be okay," Héctor murmured.  "We've made it so far, no mamá or papá..."

A crack sounded like an explosion, and light and music erupted around them.  On reflex, Héctor and Ernesto clutched each other tighter.

Screams split Héctor's ears.  "WHOOOOOOOOOOOOA!"

"THEY'RE GOIN' AT IT!"

"NEED FEW MORE HOURS ALONE IN THERE, EH?"

Ernesto was hiding his face in Héctor's shoulder.  Héctor covered up the moment of shock with laughter.  "That was fun, eh Nesto?"

Ernesto stayed quiet.  "Think he's passed out there..."  Héctor smiled at the faces surrounding them.  "I uhh, never saw Ernesto drink that much...  Can someone help him out?"

It was the best Héctor could do to save him.  He could hardly stand himself.  It took four kids to move Ernesto to the couch.  They stood around him, offering him water, remarking that he didn't look well.  Héctor's head was starting to hurt, but he knew Ernesto must be faring worse.  He needed to pee heavily, and then sleep this all off... and he'd be back to his normal self, hopefully?

Héctor found himself alone, or at least, for once, unsurrounded.  He fished through his pockets for his phone.  He had too many pockets...  He finally found it in his ass pocket, dug it out, tapped the screen...

It took him a minute to find all the numbers and letters.  He glanced one last time at Ernesto's limp figure on the couch, then called.

He'd order his drunk friend an uber... nurse his hangover....

And then, they'd talk.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Perla is my middle name so i chose to do the mature thing and put in a self-insert OC who does nothing but get hammered and vomit at a party, the most in-character a self-insert of me can get. I wasn't planning on posting this originally but it got p deep at 3am. I'm really enjoying writing these characters, so feel free to offer me more prompts!


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